


Laurens' Anatomy (original, i kno)

by fromstarttofin



Category: Greys Anatomy, Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alex is a hot doctor, Doctor AU, F/F, F/M, Greys anatomy au, I'll explain it later, M/M, Modern AU, Other, alex is derek, angie peggy john madison mulligan are baileys residents, basically this is a greys anatomy au, burr is burke, but nicer, eliza is addison, hamliza is in the past, jefferson is bailey, john is a hot doctor, john is meredith, mulligan is karev, this will probably just be a oneshot, what's not to love, yeet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-27
Updated: 2017-05-27
Packaged: 2018-11-05 10:36:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11011719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fromstarttofin/pseuds/fromstarttofin
Summary: When John starts working a NewYork - Presbyterian Hospital, he was expecting exhaustion. However, he was not expecting love, friendship, grief, and disaster.





	Laurens' Anatomy (original, i kno)

**Author's Note:**

> OKAY SO  
> there is a basic character run down in the tags, but if you have any questions/suggestions dont hesistate to tell me. there will most likely be a crap ton of mistakes in here, is I am too lazy too edit. This episode 1, season 1, of Grey's Anatomy. My tumblr is insidious-incredulous ♡ 
> 
> also; whenever there is a first person perspective/it sounds like a narrator, it's supposed to be in italics cause it's just john in his head. I also failed to add the horizontal lines, so it can be kind of confusing. Basically, whenever there's a really big gap of empty space, it's switching to a different place or perspective.

Ch 1: A Hard Day’s Night

_The game-- they say a person either has what it takes to play, or they don’t. My father was one of the greats. Me on the other hand? I’m kind of screwed._

The first thing John noticed when he awoke -on the ground- was that he had a blinding hangover. Then, he noticed that he was incredibly naked. And not alone. The one night stand on the living room floor next to him, also, was incredibly naked. At least he had a blanket on him. John, not giving two shits, took the blanket and wrapped it around himself, then not so gracefully plopped a pillow on the stranger’s ass. This made the long haired man stir, and oh so helpfully picked up the pair of black lace panties John unfortunately decided to wear last night. “This is, uh,” the man started to say. “Humiliating on so many levels, you have to go,” John interrupted. “Why don’t you come back down here, we’ll pick up where we left off?” Wonderful. He was cheeky, too.

“No, seriously, you have to go. I’m late, which isn’t what you want to be on your first day of work, so,” John faded off, hoping the man now wrapping another blanket around himself, would catch his drift. “So, uh, you actually live here?” Great, small talk, instead of collecting his clothes and leaving.

“No.”

“Oh.”

“Yes, kind of.”

“Oh.”

“It’s nice, little dusty, odd, but it’s nice. So, how do you kind of live here?” Seriously, this guy was just not getting it. “I moved two weeks ago from Boston, it was my father’s house, I’m selling it.” The man -John supposed that was just his name now- was buckling up his pants, finally. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he said. For what?” John asked, blankly. “You said ‘was’.” That made more sense. “My father’s not dead, he’s-- you know what? We don’t have to do the thing.” This guy was not making John’s life any easier. “We can do anything you want,” he replied, with a smug grin on his face. “No the thing- exhange the details, pretend we care. Look, I’m gonna go upstairs and take a shower, and when I get back down here, you won’t be here so, um, goodbye, um,” he explained. The grin that’d been placed on the stranger’s face had been wiped off in exchange for a blank expression. “Alexander, Alex,” the man -Alex- said, offering his hand.  
Now it was coming back to John. “Right, Alex. John,” he responded while shaking Alex’s hand. “Right, yeah. Mmhm,” John, now suddenly aware of how naked he was and how clothed Alex was, started shying away. “Bye, Alex,” John called, making his way up the stairs. “Nice meeting you.” Alex returned. John then raced up the stairs, chasing whatever dignity he had left. John then got ready for his day, and when he came back downstairs, Alex was thankfully gone. John then made his way to his new job, an intern at New York-Presbyterian Hospital. When he arrived, the chief, Dr. George Washington, had just started talking.

“Each of you comes here today hopeful, wanting in on the game. A month ago you were in med school, being taught by doctors. Today, you are the doctors.” Washington said, opening a door, revealing a pristine O.R.. All the interns, including John, explored the room. “The seven years you spend here as a surgical resident will be the best and worst years of your life. You will be pushed to the breaking point. Look around you,” John did, seeing doctor’s-to-be everywhere. There was a woman with long curly hair pulled up in a low ponytail with a bright pink shirt and blue skinny jeans. A dazed looking ‘girl’ in a pastel yellow sundress looking excitedly around the room. A buff man who looked like he could punch you with zero hesitation and a red band tied around his forehead. “Say hello to your competition. Eight of you will switch to an easier specialty. Five of you will crack under the pressure. Two of you will be asked to leave. This is your starting line, this is your arena. How well you play, that’s up to you.”

_Like I said, I’m screwed._

* * *

A doctor walked into the room, shouting intern names. None of which were John’s. “You’re Angelica, right? What resident did you get?” The girl with the ponytail from before looked up from tying her shoe. “Yeah, I got Jefferson.” John breathed a sigh of relief. “The Nazi? Yeah, me too.” A light voice from a few feet away piped up, “You got the Nazi? So did I. At least we’ll be tortured together, right?” The last part was directed at Angelica. “John, this is my sibling, Peggy,” she said, putting an arm around Peggy’s shoulders. “They/them pronouns, please,” they said, quietly. John nodded, understanding. “Got it.” The group started talking, remembering the mixer that was scheduled so they interns would get to know each other.

A voice interrupted their conversation, “Schuyler number one, Schuyler number two, Laurens, Madison,” it called out, almost missed by the chatter in the locker room. The man in a white coat, the voice that called them, John guessed, showed them where their resident was, a very not Nazi looking man. “That’s the Nazi?” Angelica asked, more to herself than anything. “I thought the Nazi would be a white,” said Peggy. “I thought the Nazi would be a Nazi,” John added. Someone pushing past Peggy stopped their thoughts. “Maybe it’s personal jealousy. Maybe he’s brilliant, and they call her the Nazi because they’re jealous. Maybe she’s nice,” a buff man with and a prim-proper haircut said. “Teacher’s pet,” Angelica mumbled, earning an elbow to the rib from John. If Madison heard it, he ignored it. “Hi, I’m James Madison, but everyone calls me ‘Jemmy’,” Madison said, holding his hand out for Jefferson to shake.

Jefferson just eyed it suspiciously before speaking, “I have five rules, memorize them. Number one-- don’t bother sucking up, I already hate you, that’s not gonna change,” Jefferson said as Madison tucked his hand away. “Trauma protocol, phone list, pagers- nurses will page you. You will answer every page at a run, a run,” Jefferson said as he started walking away, with none of his interns following. “That’s rule number two. Your first shift starts now and lasts forty-eight hours. You’re interns, grunts, nobodies, bottom of the surgical food chain. You run labs, write orders, work every second night until you drop and don’t complain.” When he started that speech, everyone started following him down a corridor. “On-call rooms,” he said, leading them into a room filled with beds, “attendings hog them. Sleep when you can and when you can.” He said as everyone peeked into the room. “Which brings me to rule number three, if I’m sleeping, don’t wake me unless your patient is actually dying.” John heard vicious scribbling and turned to see both Angelica and Peggy taking notes furiously. “Number four, the dying patient better not be dead when I get there. Not only will you have killed someone, you would of woke me for no good reason. We clear?” John raised his hand. “Yes?” Jefferson asked. “You said five rules, that was only four,” John trailed off nervously, then Jefferson’s pager started beeping. “Rule number five, when I move, you move,” he said as he checked his pager.

Then he broke into a run. “Get out of my way!” He yelled down the hall as all his interns ran after him, running through halls filled to the brim with patients and doctors. Jefferson lead them to an elevator, which brought them to the roof, where a helicopter was lowering itself. The interns all held onto to a hospital bed while looking away to protect their eyes from the wind blowing. “What do we got?” Jefferson asked the doctor accompanying the flight. “Katie Bryce, 15-year-old female, new onset seizures, intermittent for the past week. I.V. lost en route, started grand mal seizing as we descended.” Once they’d gotten Katie into a room, she started seizing again. “Alright, get her onto her side,” Jefferson started calmly, way too calm for the current situation, if you asked John. “Jemmy, 10 milligrams Diazepam I.M.,” He ordered, then started instructing John on how to get the needle in. “A large-bore I.V. don’t let the blood hemolyze,” he tasked to Peggy.  
John was staring at Katie, lost as he hadn’t been tasked with a job. Just then, a bald, short black man walked into the room. “What do we? Wet fish on dry land,” he said as he started reading the chart given by a nurse. “Absolutely, Dr. Burr,” replied Jefferson. “Dr. Jefferson, let’s shotgun her.” Burr said, clapping his hands together after handing the chart back to a nurse. “That means every test in the book, C.T., CBC, CHEM-7, tox screen,” He said to his interns. “Angelica, you’re on labs, Peggy, patient work-ups. John, get Katie for a C.T., she’s your responsibility now,” Jefferson said while walking away. “What about me?” Madison asked, craning his neck. “Honey, you get to do rectal exams.” Gross. Just picturing it, some weird clear jelly on your gloved hands and then prodding two fingers into a strangers ass, made Madison shiver.

* * *

 

Angelica walked up to an O.R. door, watching Dr. Burr do a surgery. Dr. Jefferson must’ve felt someone watching because he turned around and opened the door, signalling for Angelica to talk. “Katie Bryce’s labs came out clear. There’s nothing in her results that explain her seizures. I just thought I’d let you know.” She explained. “Okay,” Jefferson said, closing the door. “Wait, I hear every year, the attending on call picks the best intern and lets them perform a procedure during the first shift,” she said. Jefferson blinked. “I’m just saying that’s what I heard,” “Go away. Now,” he said, and Angelica did just that.

* * *

 

Peggy was listening to a patient's heartbeat, before removing the stethoscope and giving him the all clear. “He’ll be fine?” The wife of said patient asked. Peggy nodded. “You’ll be fine,” she said to her husband, before leaning in and kissing his head. “If you don’t count the fact that my bacon days are over, sure,” he replied, sounding defeated. “So. bypass surgery tomorrow with Dr. Burr-- I hear he’s good, and, uh, after that you can have all the bacon-flavoured soy product you can eat,” Peggy said. “Mmmm,” the patient said, feigning hunger, “kill me now,” he said meekly. “I wish I could sir, but I’m a healer,” Peggy responded, very seriously, before bursting out laughing. “Sorry, sorry,” they said in between giggles. The patient looked so confused.

* * *

 

“You’re lost,” Katie said, very matter-of-factly. “I’m not lost,” John returned, “how are you feeling?” “How do you think I’m feeling, I’m missing my pageant.” John stifled his laughter. “You’re missing your pageant?” Katie looked bored and annoyed. “Miss Spokane teen miss. I was in the top-ten after the first two rounds. This is my year, I could’ve won.” John listened intently, knowing patient care was important. Then he turned the rolling bed around after going the wrong direction. “Hello? You’re so lost. What are you, like, new?” Boy, if she knew, John would be fucked.

* * *

 “Okay, so, I’m just gonna, uh, i-insert my fingers into your rectum,” Madison said to his patient, mentally preparing himself for this. The patient looked like he really just wanted this to be over with. Madison still wasn’t ready.

* * *

 

Peggy was now inserting an I.V. into the patient, preparing him for the bypass tomorrow. The patient inhaled sharply when the it was in, or almost, apparently not used to this. Surprise! Looking directly at it does not, in fact, help. Peggy really just needed to get it in his freaking arm. Burr (when did he get there?), just said, “nope,” pulled on his gloves and did it for them. “Out, out,” Burr directed. “Bet you missed a lot when you first started out,” Peggy attempted, only earning a scoff and polite smile from Burr.

* * *

 

“I twisted my ankle in talent rehearsal. I do rhythmic gymnastics, which is, like, really cool. Nobody else does it. And I tripped over my ribbon, and I didn’t get stuck with someone this clueless,” Katie said, sitting up. “And that was, like, a nurse,” she said, with the last part whispered. John could do without the dramatics.

* * *

 “You and I are gonna have so much fun together,” Burr said to Peggy, which was not very calming in the slightest.

* * *

 

Madison sat down at the table where all the other intern’s from Jefferson were sitting, intermingled with some from others that they’d met at the mixer. “This shift is a marathon, not a sprint, you should eat,” Peggy said to Madison, noticing the lack of food in front of him. “I can’t,” he said, looking away from the food, which looked increasingly less appetizing. “You should eat something,” they said, concerned. “You try eating after performing seventeen rectal exams,” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “the Nazi hates me,” he continued. “The Nazi’s a resident, I have attendings hating me,” Peggy said, almost as if it were a competition. “You know John’s inbred?” Angelica said out of the blue. “Like it’s uncommon around here to be a doctors’ parents--” “No, royally inbred. His father is Henry Laurens,” she explained. “Shut up, the Henry Laurens?” Madison chirped. “Yeah,” Angelica mumbled.

“Who’s Henry Laurens?” Peggy quipped, confused. Madison let out a short, breathy laugh. “The Laurens method, where’d you go to school-- Mexico?” “He was one of the first big surgeons,” Madison chimed in. “He’s a living legend, yeah, she won the Harper Avery twice,” Angelica said, seriously confused on how Peggy didn’t know this. They went to the same med school. “So I didn’t know one thing,” Peggy pouted. “Talk about parental pressure,” Madison said. “God, I would kill to have Henry Laurens as a father,” Angelica sighed, resting her head on her fist. “I’d kill to be Henry Laurens. All I need is one good case,” Angelica adjusted her seating position. Peggy mumbled something incoherent into her banana, signalling for her to shut up, as John sat down.

“Katie Bryce is a pain in the ass. If I hadn’t taken the hippocratic oath, I’d kevorkian her with my bare hands,” John said, slamming his tray into the table and crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned further back into his chair. Everyone at the table looked up at him with wide eyes. “What?” John asked, why is everyone staring at me? Burr walked up to the table. “Good afternoon interns!” He said cheerfully as he walked up to the table. “It’s posted but I thought I’d share the good news personally,” he said looking down at Peggy, shoving his hands into has pants-pockets past his coat. “As you know, the honor of performing the first surgery is reserved for the intern who shows the most promise,” he said to the table of wide, hopeful eyes. Angelica did a once over of everyone at the table and locked her elbows together in front of her.

“As I am running the O.R. today, I get to make that choice,” he explained. All the interns leaned in forwards, John brushing crumbs off his hands while doing so. “Peggy Schuyler,” Burr said, clapping them on the back while Peggy choked on their muffin and said, “Me?” very, very confusedly. “You’ll scrub in for an appendectomy this afternoon, congratulations,” he said walking away. Peggy was still very confused. Everyone at the table was silent, Angelica glaring intensely at the book in front of her. “Did he say me?” Peggy said, more to themself if anything.

* * *

 “I’ve seen his file, Peggy Schuyler barely made the cut to get in this program, they’re not your guy,” Jefferson said to Burr while handing some charts back to a nurse. “They’re my guy alright,” Burr said dismissively. “Every year you pick your guy, and every year your guy suffers more than any other intern,” Jefferson said back. “Terrorize one and the rest fall in line,” he said. “I get it, I respect it, but Peggy Schuyler’s a puppy!” Jefferson exclaimed, following burr.

* * *

 

“Katie Bryce-- 3604?” John heard a woman ask, somewhere down the hall. These must be the parents. Suddenly, two very hardass looking people came into the room. “Katie, honey, mom and dad are here,” the woman said while leaning down and brushing hair out of Katie’s face. “They gave her a sedative for the C.T. scan, so she’s a little groggy,” John said to them, explaining why she was a little unresponsive and lax. “Will she be alright?” the mother asked. “Our doctor at home said that she might need an operation, i-is that true?” the father chimed in, and suddenly John felt the urge to run. “What kind of operation?” The mom asked, interrupting when John made a move to speak. “She’s, um-- well, you know what? I’m not the doctor,” John said. This was not going over very well. “I’m a doctor, I’m just not Katie’s doctor. So. I’ll go get him for you,” John explained hastily, while backing out of the room. The father nodded once, and John booked it, feeling trapped. John kept walking down the hall, trying to find Burr. He opened the door and Jefferson was there. “What?” He asked, annoyed. “Katie’s parents have questions. Do you talk to them, or do I ask Burr?” John explained, still holding the door open. “No, uh, Burr is off the case. Katie belongs to the new attending now, Hamilton. He’s over there,” Jefferson said, clapping him once on the shoulder and walking away.

John turned to where the rest of the room’s occupants were and-- oh, no. This was bad, very, very bad. The man in his living room -Alex- was standing with two other doctors, laughing and discussing a patient's file. For a second, John didn’t know what to do, fight or flight. His usual response was not working and he made move for flight. And then Alex looked up. Shit.

Now John was really going. He opened the door back up, and hightailed it out of there. Alex closed the file, said goodbye to the other doctors, and followed him. Honestly, he wasn’t planning on seeing John again, but he was glad he did.

Alex chased John down the hall, “John, can I talk to you for a second?” he said, reaching for John’s arms. “Actually, I was--” too late, Alex pulled him into a stairwell. “Dr Hamilton,” he said, desperately trying to avoid this. “Dr. Hamilton? This morning, it was Alex. Now it’s Dr. Hamilton,” he said. John was panicking. “Dr. Hamilton, we should pretend it never happened,” John said, trying to escape. Alex pulled him back. “What never happened? You sleeping with me last night, or you throwing me out this morning? Because both are fond memories I hope to hold onto,” Alex said, crossing his legs and resting his hand on the rail. “No, there will be no memories,” John said, shaking his head. “I’m not the boy in the bar anymore, and you’re not the guy,” John did not want this to happen. “This can’t exist, you get that right?” John said, like he was explaining something to a toddler.

“You took advantage of me, and now you want to forget about it.”

“I did no--”

“I was drunk, vulnerable, and good-looking, and you took advantage.”

“Okay, no, I was the one who was drunk, and you are not that good-looking,” John lied about the last part. Alex was fucking hot, and he was also his boss. “Maybe not today, last night? Last night I was very good-looking,” Alex said, moving to stand behind John. “I had my red shirt on, you took advantage,” Alex tsked and John couldn’t help the smile the spread across his face. “I did not take advantage,” Now they were bickering like children. Nope, scratch that, toddlers. “Want to take advantage again-- say Friday night?” Alex asked. That was not where John was expecting this to turn. John stared for a moment, before collecting himself. “No, you’re an attending, I’m your intern,” John almost sounded like he meant it, almost. “Stop looking at me like that,” John said. Was it getting hot in there?

“Like what?” Alex replied, in almost a whine. “Like you’ve seen me naked,” John definitely meant it then. Alex just smiled more, with a dreamy look in his eye. Alex really wanted to kiss John. “Dr. Hamilton, this is inappropriate.” How John seemingly incapable of getting this man to leave? The attending just stared at him with bewilderment. “Has that ever occurred to you?” John almost whimpered, making a beeline for the door. Alex was going to say something, but he was already gone.

* * *

 “Open, identify, ligate, remove, irrigate, close, open, identify, ligate, remove..” Peggy mumbled, making sure they had this down pact. They were basically just stand there, scrubs, gloves, gown, and all, waiting for this to be over.  
“She’s gonna faint, she’s a fainter,” some intern stated. “Nah, code brown, right in her pants,” another one commented. They all continued like this until Angelica walked in, “One, it’s they, you incompetent asshats, two, $15 says they cry,” she bet. Yes, Angelica loved Peggy dearly, but they were a total crybaby. “$2o says they have a total meltdown,” someone else commented. “$50 says they pull the whole thing off,” John said with nothing but malice directed at the others. All eyes turned towards him. “That’s one of us, down there. The first one of us. Where’s your loyalty?” There were some laughs, but a majority of the interns promptly shut up. “$75 says they can’t even identify the appendix,” another one said. “I’ll take that action,” Madison chirped. John just let out an exasperated sigh.

“Okay, Schuyler, let’s see what you can do,” Burr said while his gown was being tied up and a headlamp was placed on his head. “Scalpel,” Peggy said, while an attendant placed it in their hand and repeated the order.

Suddenly, cheers erupted from everyone watching the procedure. Peggy looked up anxiously before looking back at the patient’s abdomen. Burr shut them all up with a simple cutting motion across his throat, which they took to mean ‘shut the fuck up’. Everything was going just fine, Burr sometimes directing them, but for the most part it was okay. They kept asking for tools and using them correctly, following the steps nicely. They got the peritoneum open, and there were more cheers. This time, though, when burr looked up, he had a look of pride flash in his eyes. They got the appendix out, and all was left to do was invert the stump into the cecum, all while simultaneously pulling up on the purse strings.

“But be careful not to..” Burr said, right as the purse strings were pulled to tightly, ripping the patient’s cecum and successfully creating a bleeder. “You’ve got a bleeder, you’re filling with stool, what’re you gonna do now?” Burr asked. Oh god, they were cracking under the pressure. “Uh,” Peggy said, rather eloquently. “Think, you start the suction and you start digging for those purse strings before she bleeds to death,” Burr was hovering now, ready to swoop in. Peggy’s brain was short circuiting, everything they’d been taught, right out the window. “B.P.’s dropping,” a nurse stated. “Today, Schuyler, pull it together, let’s go,” Burr yelled. “What are you waiting for?” Peggy didn’t know, in all honesty. “Getting too low,” the nurse said.

Burr stepped in, trying salvage what he could. “Get out of the way, idiot,” Burr mumbled before trying to get the purse strings back and save this lady’s life. “Get them out of here,” Burr told another nurse on standby. Peggy just stared at the floor before being lead out of the O.R..

“They’re 007,” everyone started saying. “Yep,” another confirmed, “007.” All the interns got up, but John was still watching intently. “What’s ‘007’ mean?” Madison asked. “License to kill,” John said, still not moving his eyes away from the patient who was now dying faster and faster.

* * *

 

By hour nineteen, everyone was dead on their feet, so all the interns in their group assembled in an abandoned hallway. “007,” Peggy said out of nowhere. “They’re calling me 007 aren’t they?” Peggy asked while they turned the wheels on the wheelchair they were sitting in. “No one’s calling you 007,” John and Angelica chorused together. “On the elevator, Murphy whispered ‘007’,” Peggy was glum. “How many times do we have to go through this with you, Peggy? Five? Ten?” Madison said. “Give me a number or else I’m gonna hit you,” he said, walking away. “Murphy whispered ‘007’ and everyone laughed!” They called after him. “He wasn’t talking about you,” Angelica assured. “Are you sure?” Peggy asked, weary. “Would we lie to you?” John inquired. “Yes!” Peggy exclaimed. “007 is a state of mind,” Angelica said from where she was at the vending machine. “Says the girl who finished first in her class at Stanford!” Peggy sighed.

Just then, everyone got a page. “Oh man, it’s 911 for Katie Bryce,” John said, getting his array of snacks out of the way. “I got to go,” John yelled as he full out sprinted towards Katie’s room. As he raced down the hall towards Katie’s room, he yelled his ‘sorry’s and his ‘excuse me’s. When he go there however, the blonde-haired barbie doll was sitting in her bed reading. “Took you long enough,” she said, flopping the book down on her lap. “You’re okay? The nurse paged me ‘911’,” John asked while he walked into the room. “I had to go all ‘exorcist’ to get her to even pick up the phone,” Katie explained, clearly not getting that that specific page was meant for her dying, and her dying only. John picked up the chart and read over everything, still panting heavily. “Wait. There’s nothing wrong with you?” John asked, clearly annoyed. “Yeah, there is, I’m bored,” almost as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “You little-” John cut himself off from saying something he’d really regret. “I’m not a cruise director,” John said angrily as he went to examine Katie. “You don’t have to wig out. The pageant’s supposed to be on cable but this crappy hospital doesn’t get the channel,” Katie sighed.

John stared at her with wide eyes while listening for any irregularities in her heartbeat. “If that cow Kylie Wood is gonna walk off with my crown, I have to see it. Can you call someone?” This child was going to be the death of John. “Okay, this is an actual hospital,”John was starting to get angry. “There are sick people here, go to sleep, and stop wasting my time,” he said. “But I can’t sleep, my head’s all full,” she replied. “That’s called thinking, go with it,”he said before promptly leaving.

* * *

 Madison was staring at the hall in front of him. Or, more accurately, the sleeping resident in front of him. He tried to will himself to move and just wake him up, but his feet weren’t cooperating. The nurse beside him seemed to notice because it prompted him to ask, “What do you need?” Yes! Finally someone he could get help from. “Mr. Jones has junky veins, and he really needs antibiotics, I should start a central line,” he said. “So do it,” the nurse said. Or maybe he wouldn’t help. “You don’t know how,” he said after taking the intern’s silence for stupidity. “I’ve never done one,” he said weakly. “Well, you know what that means,” the nurse said and turned his head to where Jefferson was sound asleep. Great, he’d have to wake the sleeping giant. “Can’t we just page someone else?” Madison asked hopefully. The nurse shook his head with a, “She’s the on-call resident,” and a smirk. “Okay, I’ll just, I’ll wake him,” he said.

So he did. “Dr. Jefferson, I don’t mean to bother you,” “Then don’t,” “It’s Mr. Jones,” “Is he dying?” “No,” “Then stop talking to me,” Jefferson said with a note of finality in his voice. Madison cleared his throat and Jefferson got up while glaring incredibly at Madison. “What is it?!” and so, Jefferson did the central line, and a gave a lecture to Madison. “Next time,” he took his gloves off, “He better be so close to dead, there’s a tag on his toe,” and with that, he took the chart and left. Madison call out a meek ‘thanks’ after him.

* * *

 

When he walked into the room, the burly black dude with a headband was giving a diagnosis of a patient to a nurse. “4-B’s got post-op pneumonia,” he said, “let’s start antibiotics,” and closed the curtain. “Are you sure that’s the right diagnosis?” The nurse asked him, which clearly agitated the man. “Well, I don’t know, I’m only an intern. Here’s an idea, why don’t you go spend 4 years at med school and then let me know if it’s the right diagnosis?” John could tell this guy was a bit of an asshole. Nope, scratch that, not a bit, a lot. “She’s short of breath, she’s got a fever, she’s post-op. Start the antibiotics,” he said to her while marking everything down on the chart.  
“God, I hate nurses,” he mumbled as he walked away, a way towards John. “I’m Mulligan, I’m with Jeremy, you’re with the Nazi, right?” John ignored the question and the sly smirk that went with it. “She may not have pneumonia, you know?” John said, still pointedly ignoring the asshat next to him. “She could be splinting, or, have a P.E.,” John continued. “Like I said, I hate nurses,” Mulligan muttered. “What did you just say? Did you just call me a nurse?” John wanted to punch him, but if he did, he’d probably just end patting his cheek or something. This dude was ridiculously set. “Well, if the white cap fits,” he muttered again.

John’s pager going off saved him from continuing that god awful conversation. The page was a 911 for Katie Bryce, and John, expecting it to be Katie fucking around again, took his time getting to her room. An incredibly stupid decision on his part. When he got up the stairs and took a glimpse down the hall, he realized he fucked up incredibly bad. He sprinted down the hall, to Katie’s room.

As he arrived the nurse informed him that she was having grand mal seizures, she had 2 milligrams of diazepam and lorazepam, and that he’d need to come up with a course of action. “Dr. Laurens, you need to tell us what you want to do, Dr. Laurens!” John was panicking. He didn’t know what to do, this was the first extreme thing he’s dealt with, ever. They don’t prep you for this in med school. John snapped into it, trying to figure out what to do. All the nurses were holding her convulsing body. “Okay, she’s had lorazepam?” he asked in a shaky voice. “4 milligrams,” a female nurse confirmed. “Okay, and you’ve paged Dr. Jefferson and Dr. Hamilton?” He asked anybody. “Lorazepam is not working,” said a nurse, who pulled out his stethoscope and tried to check her heartbeat. “Phenobarbital, load her with phenobarbital,” he ordered. “Pheno’s in,” said someone. “No change,” another female nurse said. “You paged Dr. Hamilton?” “I just told you!” “Page him again, stat!” John said, he had no idea of what to do. “What do you want to do? Dr. Laurens, you need to tell us what you want to do!” the male nurse said. “Her heart stopped!” Someone called.

And then her heart stopped. Someone pushed the button for code blue while another nurse got the crash cart. Then john was being handed paddles and was yelling to charge the paddles to 200. It didn’t work, she was still in V-FIB. John got the paddles charged again to 300. Nothing. Someone said her heart’s stopped for 27 seconds, though he only distantly heard it. 360. Nothing. “Come on, Katie,” John mumbled. 49 seconds. “At 60 seconds you’re supposed to administer another drug--” “Charge again!” John yelled. No one did anything so he yelled it again, that worked. 360, again. “I see sinus rhythm,” a nurse stated. “Thank god,” John mumbled to himself, so quiet only he could hear. “Blood pressure’s coming up,” the male nurse stated. A manual pump was placed on Katie’s mouth to get her breathing back to normal.

“What the hell happened?” Hamilton asked as soon as he got into the room. Not good enough. “She had a seizure--” “Seizure?!” “--and her heart stopped,” John explained. “You were supposed to be monitoring her,” Hamilton said. “I checked on her and she--” “I got her, just, just go.” Hamilton said, all the while listening to her heartbeat. John left the room and walked down the hall, he was exhausted. On his way to -where was he going?- he passed Jefferson in the hall. “You get a 911- you page me immediately, not in the 5 minutes it takes to get you to the emergency, immediately,” Jefferson glared. “You’re on my team, and if somebody dies, it’s my ass. You hear? Laurens- Laurens!” John tuned her out and just kept walking.

While he was walking, he passed Angelica, “John, John!’ she called after him. He left the hospital and ran to the trees in the pouring rain, clutching his stomach and dumping all his stomach contents. Angelica stared at this from a far, vomiting was gross, she’d rather not watch that up close, thank you very much. John wiped his mouth off on his hand, said “If you tell anyone, ever,” he trailed off and walked back into the building.

* * *

 

“You said it was a seizure disorder, now you’re saying it isn’t?” The father of Katie asked him. “I’m saying I don’t know,” he explained, or, he tried to. “What do you think it could be?” The mother asked. “I don’t know,” he said, yet again. “When will you know?” the father asked, they seemed to be switching off for questions. “I don’t have an answer for you. For now,” he took a deep breath in before continuing, “Katie is stable and--” “Wait one damn minute, we came here because this hospital is supposed to be the best in New York. That’s my kind in there,” he pointed somewhere deeper into the hospital for emphasis, “my kid, and you have the audacity to stand here and tell me ‘I don’t know’,” he was shaking with anger. “Mr. Bryce,” “No. I want a doctor who knows what they’re doing. You get me someone else, someone better than you,” he bellowed. “Mr. Bryce, I assure you I am working hard on Katie’s case.” “No, you’re not,” the father turned back and said. While all of this was happening, Mrs. Bryce’s eyes were red rimmed and her cheeks were stained with tears. “If you were, you’d be able to give me some answers,” he finished.

* * *

 

“What are you doing?” John asked as Angelica maneuvered a pair of tweezers attached with a thread in one hand and a pair of scissors in the other, while balancing a banana on her knee. “I’m suturing a banana with the vain hope that it wakes up my brain,” she groggily explained. On the other side of the room Peggy was giggling at seemingly nothing with their eyes closed. “What are you smiling about, 007?” Angelica asked while their siblings laughter ceased. “I’m sorry, I get mean while I’m tired,” she said, still suturing the banana. “You know what? I don’t care,” Peggy said while a smile graced their features and they stopped slouching. “I comforted a family, and I got to hang out in the O.R. today, all is well.” Just then, Madison walked in the room, followed by a “Does anybody even know why we’re here?” and Dr. Hamilton following suit after Madison.

“Well, good morning,” he said with a smile that was not appropriate for the hours they’ve been awake. Mumbles of the same greetings were spread through the room. “I’m gonna do something pretty rare for a surgeon,” he said while walking around the room. “I’m gonna ask interns for help.” Everyone sat up a little straighter at that. “I’ve got this kid, Katie Bryce. Right now, she’s a mystery,” he took in a deep breath before continuing, “she doesn’t respond to our meds. The labs are clean, the scans are pure, but she’s having seizures- grand mal seizures, with no visible cause. She’s a ticking clock,” he sighed. “She’s gonna die if I don’t make a diagnosis, which is where you come in,” he gestures to the entirety of the room. “I can’t do it alone,” something which was kind of difficult for Hamilton to admit, which means, he needs some help. Desperately.

“I need your extra minds, extra eyes,” Peggy pulled her hair into a ponytail in preparation. “I need you to play detective, find out why Katie is having seizures. I know you’re tired, busy. You’ve got more work than you can possibly handle, I understand,” mumbles of agreement sprung from the room, a majority of them from people with coffee cups. “So, I’m gonna give an incentive. Whoever finds the answer rides with me,” he glanced over to John. “Katie needs surgery. You get to do what no interns get to do, scrub in to assist on an advanced procedure,” Angelica was buzzing with excitement. “Dr. Jefferson’s gonna hand you Katie’s chart,” he said. “The clock is ticking fast, people. If we’re gonna send Katie’s life, we have to do it soon,” and with that, everyone left and people started collecting their own file of the case.

* * *

 Back in the E.R., John was filling in charts, when he heard a very annoying voice chime in again. “Did you just page me?” John heard it from a few feet away, clearly not directed at him. “Yes, 4-B’s still short of breath,” the nurse said. Mulligan didn’t even take this into consideration before replying with, “Look, just give the antibiotics time to work,” to which he earned a “The antibiotics should have worked by now.” The nurse was clearly correct. John hated the lack of respect the nurses got, especially from his fellow co workers. The work they did is just important as the work the doctors did. “She’s old, she’s freaking ancient. She’s lucky she’s still breathing,” Mulligan grumbled. “I got a shot to scrub in downstairs on a patient who wasn’t alive in the civil war,” he said while snapping the chart closed and handing it back to the nurse. “Don’t page me again,” and with that, he walked away, presumably to scrub in on that surgery.

John returned the now updated chart to the desk in the E.R. when angelica caught up to him. “Hey, I want in on Hamilton’s surgery, you’ve been the intern on KAtie’s case since the start,” she said breathlessly. “You want to work together? If we find the answer, we have a 50/50 chance of scrubbing in on the surgery,” she explained. The odds weren’t the best, but Angelica was willing to do it. “I’ll work with you, but I don’t want in on the surgery,” which was bullshit.

John really wants to do it, neurosurgery is one of the coolest specialties out there. But, a certain pair of raven black eyes keeps on reminding him that he can’t. Truth is, John wanted to be with Alex, he was just drawn to him. The problem was though that their relationship would probably violate several workplace sexual harassment rules.

“Are you kidding? It’s the biggest opportunity any intern’s ever gonna get,” Angelica’s eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t want to spend any more time with Hamilton than I have to,” he explained. “What do you have against Hamilton? Shit, too much information, good job, John. “If we find the answer, the surgery’s yours, do you want to work together, or not?” John said. “Deal,” Angelica returned, a goofy grin spread on her face.

John and Angelica walked to the hospital’s library, which was mostly used for case files and all things medical, when anyone needed anything. “So she doesn’t have anoxia, chronic renal failure, or acidosis,” Angelica said while john furiously read something. “It’s not a tumor, because her C.T.’s clean,” she sighed. “Are you seriously not gonna tell me why you won’t work with Hamilton?” she asked, yet again. John pointedly ignored this question, over and over again. “No, what about infection?” He asked. “No, there’s no white count, and she has not C.T. lesions, no fevers, nothing in her spinal tap. Just tell me,” she said, looking through books. “You can’t comment, make a face, or react in any way,” John gave in and Angelica turned to him. “We had sex,” he said. Angelica looked like she was going to say something but went with “what about an aneurysm?” “No blood on the C.T. and no headaches,” he sighed. “Okay there’s no drug use, no pregnancy, no trauma,” she said while staring at the floor.  
“Was he good?” John dropped the file he was holding on the floor and turned to her. “I mean, he looks like he’d be good. Was it any good?” John ignored this in favour of getting up off the ground. “We’re out of answers,” he said, shoving the case files back into their respective spots in the shelves. “What if no one comes up with anything?” he said, sitting on a stool. “You mean, what if she dies?” “Yeah.” “This is gonna sound really bad,” she took in a deep breath, “but I really wanted that surgery.”

“She’s just never gonna get the chance to turn into a person. The sum total of her existence will be almost winning ‘miss teen whatever’,” John sighed. “You know what her pageant talent is?” he whispered. “They have talent?” John held back a snort. “Rhythmic gymnastics,” he answered. Angelica let out short, breathy laughs, saying, “oh, come on,” and then laughing some more. “What is rhythmic gymnastics? I don’t eve-- I can’t even say it, I don’t know what it is,” then John started thinking back to when Katie was bitching in the hall to him.

“I twisted my ankle in talent rehearsal,” she had said.

“I think it’s something with a ball and a--” John looked up at her, stopping her mumbling. “What?” She asked as John got up. “John, what?” “Get up, come on!” he called as he started running out of the library-type-thing.

John and Angelica were sprinting down the hall to try and find Hamilton, with Angelica telling him, “the only thing that she would possibly need is an angiogram,” as she turned a corner to see Dr. Hamilton getting in the elevator, stuffed with people. “Oh, oh! DR. Hamilton, just one moment,” she said as he continued to write something down in a very, very small notepad. “Katie competes in beauty competitions,” she said breathlessly. “I know that, but we have to save her life anyways,” he said, drawing his attention back to the notepad. “Okay, she has no headaches, no neck pain, her C.T. is clean,” she said as she shoved the closing elevator door back. “There’s no medical proof of an aneurysm, but what if she has an aneurysm anyways?” “There are no indicators,” he said. “She twisted her ankles a few weeks ago practicing for the pageant,” she said. “Okay, I appreciate you trying to help but--” she interrupted the door closing again. “She fell, when she twisted her ankle, she fell,” John chimed it.

Alex glanced around the elevator wearily, his co workers getting slightly annoyed that their short elevator trip was no longer so short. “It was no big deal, she got up, iced her ankle, and everything was fine. It was a fall so minor, her doctor didn’t even think to mention it when I was taking her history, but, she did fall,” she tried. “Well you know what the chance that a minor fall could burst an aneurysm?” he said as the doors started closing. “One in a million- literally,” he called as the doors closed.

John and Angelica walked around the elevator clearing space, planning on giving up, when the elevator doors opened up. “Let’s go,” Alex said. “Where?” Angelica asked. “To find out if Katie’s one in a million,” he said.

* * *

 

As they were anxiously awaiting the results of the angiogram, Angelica was biting her pen tip and Alexander was continuously looking up back at the screen and down again, until he saw some dark patches. “I’ll be damned,” he mumbled, as the technician said “there it is”. “It’s minute, but it’s there,” Alexander nodded. “It’s a subarachnoid hemorrhage, she’s bleeding into her brain.

* * *

 

 “She could have gone her entire life without it ever being a problem,” he said to the two as they walked to give Katie’s parents the diagnosis and their options. “One tap in the right spot-” “and it exploded,” Angelica finished. “Exactly, now I can fix it,” he took a deep breath. “You two,” he patted both of their backs with either hand, “did great work, love to stay and kiss your asses,” he winked at John, “but I got to tell Katie’s parents she’s having surgery,” he said and then got Katie’s chart from the front desk.

“Uh, D-Dr. Hamilton you said you’d pick someone to scrub in if we helped,” Angelica said. “Oh! Yes, right. I’m sorry, I can’t take you both, it’s gonna be a full house,” he said, turning to both of them. “John, see you in the O.R.,” he said, patted John on the shoulder, and walked away. Angelica turned to John with wide eyes.

He tried to speak, but was suddenly incapable of forming coherent strings of words. Angelica gave him a glare that could kill and stomped away.

“Angelica…"

* * *

 Back in the illuminated abandoned hallway they sought out, Angelica was pulling the wrapper off a water bottle. “Maybe John thought--” “Madison,” Angelica said as a warning. John entered the doorway and leaned on the frame and watched Angelica stare blankly at the floor. “I’ll tell him I changed my mind,” he said, crossing his arms. “Don’t- don’t do me favours, it’s fine,” she said as she rested her head on the brick wall behind her. “Angelica--” “You know what? You did a cutthroat thing, deal with it, don’t come to me for absolution,” she spat. “You want to be a shark? Be a shark,” she mumbled. “I’m not a--!” “Oh, yes, you are, only it makes you feel all bad in your warm, gooey places,” she said, returning her attention back to the water bottle before saying, “No, screw you, I don’t get picked for surgeries cause I slept with my boss, I didn’t get into med school cause I have a famous father,” she almost yelled. “Some of us have to earn what we get,” she mumbled, yet again.

John was pissed, he didn’t feel like dignifying that arrogant taunt with a response, so he walked away.

* * *

 

By hour 40, everyone was exhausted, mentally, physically, emotionally. Dr. Hamilton was preparing Katie for surgery (he had the honour to shave her head) as John walked aimlessly around the room. “I promised to make her look cool,” he said, smirking. “Apparently being a bald beauty queen is the worst thing that happened in the world,” he laughed. John didn’t. “Did you choose me for the surgery because I slept with you?” John asked, shy. “Yes,” Alex stated. “I’m kidding,” he sighed. “I’m not gonna scrub in for surgery,” John said, regaining confidence. “You should ask Angelica, she really wants it,” John said, unfolding his arms. “You’re Katie’s doctor. And, on your first day, with very little training, you helped save her life,” he said, with a really weird look of pride. “You’ve earned the right to follow this case through to the finish, You,” he sighed, “You shouldn’t let the fact that we had sex get in the way of taking your shot.”

Yeah, okay. That made sense.

* * *

 

Outside, Peggy and John were sat on a window ledge, both miserable. “I wish I wanted to be a chef. Or a ski instructor. Or a kindergarten teacher,” John said. “You know, I would’ve been a really good postal worker,” Peggy said, looking into the distance. “I’m dependable,” they said, earning a chuckle from John. “You know, my parents tell everyone they meet that their kids are surgeons. They’re always so proud, but never really of me. It’s always been ‘Angelica and Eliza,’ and then I’d come in and jump saying ‘And Peggy!’,” they said. “If they don’t think I do well enough, they don’t show it, but if they saw me now,” they drifted off. “They’d be so disappointed,” they finished, later.  
“When I told my father I wanted to go to medical school, he tried to talk me out of it,” John said. “Said I didn’t have what it takes to be a surgeon,” he said, looking at Peggy. “That I’d never make it,” Peggy finally looked at him. “So, they way I see it, we’re fucking superheroes,” he said, earning a dry laugh from Peggy. “We’re gonna survive this, right?” Peggy said. John looked over at them and just smiled.

* * *

 

“She’s still short of breath,” Washington said to Mulligan. “Did you get an ABG or a chest film?” Mulligan closed the chart he was holding, took a deep breath and said, “Oh, yes, sir, I did,” plastering on a fake smile. “And, what did you see?” John was suddenly very interested in this conversation. Washington put his hands on his hips as Mulligan came up with, “Oh, well, I had a lot of patients last night”. “Name the common causes of post-op fever,” Washington’s voice boomed. “Uh, yes,” Mulligan said, opening up a book.

“From your head, not from a book,” the Chief said. “Don’t look it up, learn it. What are the common causes of post-op fever?” He said again. “The common causes of post--” Mulligan started mumbling, but was cut off when Washington yelled, “Can anyone name the common causes of post-op fever?” There were a couple of moments before John decided to speak up. “Wind, water, wound, walking, wonder-drug, the five W’s, most of the time it’s wind-- splinting or pneumonia. Pneumonia is easy to assume, especially if you’re too busy to do the tests,” he glared pointedly at Mulligan, as did Washington. “What do you think is wrong with 4-b?” Washington asked him. “The fourth ‘W’, walking. I think she’s a prime candidate for a pulmonary embolus,” he stated.

“How would you diagnose?” Washington asked. John took a deep breath before replying, spiral C.T., V/Q scan, provide 02, dose with heparin, and consult for an IVC filter,” he said confidently.

Washington turned back to Mulligan and said, “Do exactly as he says, then tell your resident that I want you off this case.” Mulligan nodded stiffly before starting to get the patient prepared for a spiral C.T.. “You’re the spitting image of your father,” Washington mumbled to him quietly. John smiled, politely.

“Welcome to the gang.”

* * *

 

_I can’t think of one reason of why I want to be a surgeon, but I can think of one thousand reasons why I should quit. They make it hard on purpose, there are lives in our hands. There comes a moment where it’s more than just a game. You either take that step forward, or turn around and walk away. I could quit, but here’s the thing,_

_I love the playing field._

* * *

Katie’s surgery went as expected, normal and routine. After, Angelica and John made up, but without the sappy sentimental shit.

Then, Alex left the wash-up room and John spent a solid minute practically drooling before speaking up. “That was amazing,” he said. Alex just said, “mmm,” before returning to the chart. “You practice on cadavers, you observe, and you think you know what you’re gonna feel like, standing over that table but…” Alex looked up. “That was such a high,” he finished. “I don’t know why anybody does drugs,” he mumbled, moments later. Alex smiled, “yeah.” He had this dreamy look in his eye, the one that made John feel like he was on top of the world. He returned it to Alex. They shared a couple sheepish smiles before Alex said, “I should, uh, go do this,” still looking at John. “You should,” John agreed. Alex put his pen down and told John he’d see him around.

“See you.”

* * *

 

_So…_

_I made it through my first shift. We all did. The other interns are all good people, you’d like them. I think. I don’t know-- maybe. I like them._

_Oh, and, I changed my mind. I’m not gonna sell the house, I’m gonna keep it. I’ll have to get a couple of roommates, but…_

“It’s home, you know?” John asked his father. “Are you the doctor?” Henry Laurens asked his son. “No, I’m not your doctor, but I am a doctor,” he replied. “What’s your name?” Henry asked him. “It’s me, dad, John,” he said. Henry still looked apprehensive. The pitter-patter of the rain outside was grounding. “Alright,” Henry said. “I used to be a doctor, I think,” he said, turning the watch on his wrist in a fidgety manner. John took his hand and smiled at him. “You were a doctor, dad, you were a surgeon,” John gave him another warm smile.

**Author's Note:**

> Should I make this a series? Or leave it as a oneshot? I'd love your input ((and your kudos ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯)) 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed this. 
> 
> -theo ♡


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